Your Partner
by ElfMaidenOfLight
Summary: Once again it is time for the annual Ball. No excuses, Jane has to go, and she must dress the part. Unexpectedly, the Princess falls ill and needs her mother. Who will be the couple to ceremoniously begin the festivities, if not the King and his wife?
1. Rise

A/n- Latest idea I had swimming around in my head.

Disclaimer: I don't own JatD

Summary: A year has passed, and once again it is time for the annual Ball. No excuses this time, Jane has to go, and her mother insists she dresses the part. Unexpectedly, the Princess falls ill and needs her mother; the Queen cannot attend the party. Who then, will be the couple to ceremoniously begin the night's festivities, if not the King and his wife?

* * *

**Your Partner**

* * *

It was evening, and the stars were just beginning to twinkle out from amidst the swathing blanket that was early sunset.

Jane and her four friends sat round their usual table by the Kitchens, thinking wistfully of the festivities that would take place in just a few short hours.

"I'm so glad your going this time, Jane!" Pepper sat down in a flurry next to Rake, "It will be so nice to have another girl there!"

Jane smiled, "Pepper, there are others girls there who come up from the town." The Kitchen maid waved off her comment as Jester leaned forward.

"Why _are_ you attending the Ball, Jane? I thought you hated it!"

The redhead grimaced, "I promised my mother.

"That didn't stop you last year."

Jane slouched in her seat, "I broke a promise last year, and that's not very noble, is it Jester? If I'm going to be a knight I better act like one. I made a **promise**. Dress and all, I have got to go."

Pepper let out a wistful sigh, "I can't wait to see the Queen! Her dresses are always so beautiful!" Despite herself, Jane inwardly agreed. "Her and the King always dance so beautifully!"

"Yes," agreed Jester, "They do make a fine pair, dancing the first dance of the night."

The precious silence that ensued lasted for the briefest of moments…

"Jane? Oh, Jane!" They all looked around to see a woman leaning out of a window in the tower.

The girl in question grumbled.

"Yes mother?" She called back as sweetly as she could.

"You need to come get ready for the Ball! Hurry to your room, dear!"

Jane sighed, Pepper giving her one long look, "I'll see you guys later."

"Good luck!" Smithy called after her.

Jane rolled her eyes, stomping off.

.o.o.o.

"So, you prance around, all frilly-like," Dragon flapped his wings and pretended to do a little jig, "all night?"

"More or less."

Dragon rested his great big head on the windowsill, watching as Jane turned this way and that in front of the figure length mirror against the wall of her room.

Did everything her mother bought for her involve frills?

"It's a nice color, Jane. Blue suits your hair, don't you think?" Her mother was sitting on her bed, a comb in her hand. "Not just any blue either, dear, _orchid_ blue."

Dragon snickered. "Hear that Jane? _Orchid_ blue."

The girl shot him a warning glare.

"Come Jane, let me brush your hair. Just this once."

"No, mother. I already did it myself."

The woman's lips formed a thin line, "You never get all the tangles out, you silly girl." At her daughters' expression, however, her tone lightened considerably. "But, I suppose your hair is a little consolation for forcing you to come this year."

Jane managed a smile, a true smile. Her mother got up from her seat, the gold threads on her own formal dress squinted and winked in the many a-candle light. The brush was set on the table.

"Now, let's be off. We'll meet your father at the Hall."

Jane turned round to Dragon, "Sorry about all this, I'm afraid I'll be unavailable this evening for patrol. If anything happens to be the matter, you find me right away." She used her pointer finger for emphasis.

Dragon saluted her in the most assuring of ways, "Leave it to me, Jane!"

The redhead grinned and took off down the hall after her mother, catching up with her as they took the staircase down to the corridor.

The darkness was pierced by candle brackets upon the stone.

"Jane!" A sweet voice wafted out from down the gloomy hallway. Pepper raced merrily up to them.

"Oh, Pepper, you look stunning!" Jane's mother cooed over the kitchen girl's red dress. The hem and long sleeve cuffs were rimmed in silver, the material plain, but of a rich velvety texture.

"Why, thank you." Pepper curtsied, "It was borrowed from the Queen's closet from when she was our age. She is ever so kind." Lady Adeline nodded in agreement.

"Ahem." Jane tapped her foot lightly. The pair looked at her in question. "Shouldn't we be going?" Her mother frowned, but Jane tried to feel a little less than guilty. It _was_ her mother's fault she was being dragged into this instead of what she _should_ be doing, which was patrolling with Dragon. Honestly. They might as well go as to get it over with.

The three rounded the corner and stopped behind a particularly large group milling about the entrance to the Hall. Inside, music wafted out into the night air, sweet an inviting. The smell of meats and mead mingled too with the excited buss all around them.

A servant bowed as they entered the doorway, and immediately Jane felt the weight of the whole room hit her full in the face. That, and the heat.

The Hall was swimming with bodies. Tables erected along the walls were fringed with men and women eating and drinking, the large space in the middle of the room cleared for what Jane dreaded the most- dancing. In the front of the room, upon the large dais, the King sat in his char, the Queen by his side.

The musicians next to them were playing a soft, lilting toon

"Jane!" Jester, dressed in his ever-present outfit, sauntered up to them, tailed by Smithy and Rake. The latter boys were made up a little more handsomely.

"Wow, Jane." Smithy nodded to her, "You're looking a tad less dangerous tonight."

She mock sneered at him. The oaf. She barely registered the crisp flush that was framing Jester's face as he noticed her attire too.

It wasn't _that_ bad, the dress. A pretty blue thing, with long, trailing sleeves and a slight puff at the shoulders. At her waist was a thin band of silver stitched into the fabric, coming down to a small point at the juncture of her legs, and the neck was open just below her collarbone.

Really, she had seen worse.

It was at that time that Rake moved to corner Pepper all to himself, leading her away from them towards a table for a bite of dinner.

"I'm surprised you came, Jane." Jester confessed as the three of them moved to stand near an open door, the one that lead to the practice yard, so they could feel some fresh air.

She shrugged, her curls bouncing, "I made a promise. As much as I hate being here, I can't break a promise."

As the two were talking, a noise at the opposite entrance to the room caused Smithy to lean up onto the balls of his feet, peering over the heads of the guests. He rocked back on his heels, a low whistle coming from his lips.

"What?"

He looked at Jane, an odd expression alight in his eyes, "Our favorite pair just showed up."

That could only mean one pair. Only one pair merited such a tone.

"Gunther."

"And his father," Smithy pointed out.

The large man sauntered into the room, into their view, decked with the most elaborate silks and furs. He made a show of greeting everyone he passed and bowed ever so low at the King and Queen's feet.

Jane peered round the group of courtiers they stood behind, searching with her eyes

Gunther Breech, she noticed, was enjoying the revelry with no more excitement than she was. In fact, he looked like he was trying to pry himself away from his father. He kept dipping up and down on his feet as if looking for something.

"My, my," said Jester, "His father does know how to dress him."

It was true; Gunther might as well had already been Knighted with the attire he was donning. The green tunic he wore was far from the tan thing he had on during practice; it was deep, rich, and emerald, ending in a tight fit about his wrists.

"I think that's real silver, by the looks of it," Smithy noted in regards to the shiny buckle attached to the brown band round the boy's waist, and to the buttons at his cuffs and collar.

Jane snorted.

Typical.

Show off.

Consequently, Gunther's gaze rounded on her, and he froze, settling himself back on his heels.

Getting the intense feeling that he was trying to stare her down, Jane very nearly glared right back at him. He seemed to find this a tad amusing, for one of his eyebrows quirked. She turned round again, not bothering to give him the satisfaction.

He was going to come over there. She knew it. Any little excuse…

"Ah, if it isn't the court jester…" his voice rose over the general white noise of the room. He was walking towards them now. "Oh, wait, it _is_ the court jester- and Smithy, glad you could separate yourself from the bellows. And Jane-"

Jane murmured a very quiet, very unladylike curse. "I'm not really in the mood for this." And she rounded on him.

The boy stopped, mid-stride. He was about two paces from them, and yet he had stopped.

Dragging her gaze to meet his, Jane was surprised that Gunther looked as pale as ever. His mouth was partially open in mid-retort, but there was no sound.

He was staring at her.

Heat was creeping up her neck by the second.

Gunther's eyes were round as dinner plates... and he was still staring.

Jester coughed, meaningfully.

This seemed to recover Gunther from his revere. His mouth snapped closed, his hands balled fists at his side. He was glaring then, glaring at Jane as if she were an impossible problem he was trying to figure out.

It gave her goosebumps.

Without another word he turned on his heel and stalked off.

"Um, Jane?" Pepper was coming up to them, "What was that all about?"

"No idea…."

Smithy let out a low, short laugh.

* * *

A/n- Part one to a two or three part fic. It depends on if I want to condense or lengthen certain parts.

Hope you enjoy!

Please review!


	2. Crescendo

A/n- Sorry about the long wait between updates. The Holidays… you know how it goes.

Disclaimer: Nope.

* * *

**Your Partner**

* * *

A trilling laugh wafted over the chattering noise within the hall.

Jane's spoon clinked upon her bowl. This had been going on since they had sat down for the feast.

The tables that had bordered the edges of the room had been brought forth once the King's party had swelled to its desired guest attendance. In the center of the room Caradoc and Gwendolyn sat at their table, the Prince seated along side his father, but the Princess absent from her seat.

Jane frowned. When she and her friends had seated themselves along one of the adjacent benches, she had tried to search for the girl. It worried her that her spot was now vacant.

That laugh again.

Interrupted, Jane sent a murderous stare off down the table to her right.

Unaware of the redhead's fuming, the bubbly blonde practically draping herself over Gunther Breech's arm continued her incessant flirtations, obviously compelled by the boy's rich parentage- what else?

Jane had been watching their interaction for a while, more occupied with viewing them than her food, to be honest.

It was hard to tell if Gunther was actually enjoying the attention. He kept smiling politely at her and then staring hard at the table in front of him, brow creasing, before being drawn out again by the blonde patting his arm or hitting his shoulder.

_Perhaps this was the girl Gunther had brought flower for last year?_ Jane wondered to herself, disgusted with the blonde's batting eyelashes and the way she _touched_ him. It was as if she were trying to mould herself onto the side of him.

On Gunther's left his father sat. The man was banging his hand on the table about something or other. At the sudden noise Jane saw Gunther tense, possibly flinch. Only… maybe it was the girl's fault, because she suddenly became rather icy.

She shook his arm, mouthing words with rounded syllables, and he finally glared at her. The girl withered, scooting back to her own personal space.

Vindication!

Jane beamed.

But when Gunther swivelled to tell the blonde off, he caught another set of eyes.

Jane froze, heat instantly blooming in her face. His eyes widened, locked with hers. A strange feeling, like missing a step going down the castle stairs, dropped from Jane's stomach and sizzled out into her fingertips. In her haste and embarrassment, she attempted to busy herself with her plate, only to successfully upend her cup, spilling the contents across her food. She looked at Gunther again, slowly, dreading his laughing at her mistake.

But he wasn't watching her any longer. He had gone back to staring at nothing in particular, a pained look on his face. The blonde next to him tried once more to shake him from his reverie, but he didn't take notice, and she dropped her hand.

"Jane?"

She looked up to see Jester staring at her soggy plate.

"Um, sorry. I…"

"Are you feeling alright, Jane?"

"Ah-"

"Well, you have hardly eaten anything."

"I was not very hungry."

"Odd," Jester laughed, "Jane not hungry?"

Jane smiled, but only half-heartedly. Against the wall she saw the King and Queen rise from their seats. "Well, I think dinner is over with anyway."

As the royal pair moved towards the front of the room, to take their seats upon their vaulted chairs, the rest of the occupants in the hall also began to stand, the servants quickly clearing and moving the tables back from whence they came.

The now large, empty center of the room was rimmed in people waiting in rapt anticipating for the beginning of the night's revelry. Jane too, began to inch forward.

"Exciting, is it not?" Pepper was gazing at the Queen. "She looks stunning tonight! I can not wait for the dance… oh…"

As they watched, a squat woman appeared out of the side doors behind the elevated throne dais, hurrying towards the monarchs. The woman, a nanny who would help Jane's mother with the royal children, bowed swiftly before taking the Queen aside. As they spoke, a general murmur rose from the other occupants in the hall. The chattering burst out even louder as the Queen spoke quickly to her husband before turning to leave with the maid.

"What do you think is wrong?" Jane asked Smithy, who could see over the heads of the other guests.

"I do not know. It cannot be _too_ bad…"

"Come on, let us go and see." Despite Jester trying to pull her back, Jane slipped in between the crowd and began inching her way toward the inside of the mass of people, "Sorry!" she apologised, as toes were trod on and elbows were mistakenly jabbed into sides. As she reached the front, her left foot came down rather hard on the figures' now standing next to her.

"Watch where you are going, will you?"

"Gunther!" Jane hissed as she straightened up, nearly bumping her head on a tall man's elbow.

"Jane?" The boy seemed to shrink away from her as she looked at him, daring him with her eyes to make some silly comment about her outfit, but nothing came. Gunther's shoulders were hunched, his jaw was set, and he was looking away from her.

Heat flooded Jane's face.

His voice, although she could barely hear it, was as soft as ash, "And here I thought you had no stomach for this kind of thing."

_Thing_. He meant the ball.

Jane grit her teeth, swallowing her retort as the King raised his hands for silence.

"I am sorry, friends," Caradoc began from his seat, "It seems as if our little Princess has fallen ill…. Nothing too serious, mind you," he added hurriedly. "The Princess Lavinia has just requested her mother's special attention, so I am afraid the Queen has had to retire for the evening."

_That's why she wasn't at dinner,_ Jane thought. _I hope she's alright._

"Now I know it is customary for Queen Gwendolyn and I to begin the night's festivities, but I am sure this year tradition can be put aside somewhat for the Princess."

The hall was silent; only soft whisperings could be heard.

Jane felt, despite herself, a little dejected. The Queen _was_ a beautiful dancer.

But a heartbeat later-

"Oh, my _good _King!"

Beside her, Jane heard Gunther give a somewhat loud groan.

From the back of the room Magnus Breech had raised his voice over those beside him. "I see no reason for us to break our longstanding tradition over a simple sickness!"

The King looked for a moment as if he were about to object, but hesitated. "What do you… suggest Merchant?"

"Why, let another pair dance! I am sure the young guests are excited to show off a little of their own… ahhem… inextinguishable energy."

Caradoc was stroking is chin. "That _is_ a remarkable idea…"

"Might I make a suggestion?" Magnus didn't even wait for an answer. "Why not let my son, _Squire_ Gunther, begin the dance with a partner, hmm?"

Jane could have sworn she heard Gunther cease to breathe, and beside Gunther's father, the blonde girl was looking extremely pleased with herself.

"Excellent idea!" The King exclaimed.

"Oh God," the boy breathed, looking pale.

Jane grinned. All Magnus was trying to do was to show Gunther off to the crowd, like a prized pig. _Serves him right. Serves him right for all his nastiness. _"Ha. Ha." She snipped.

Gunther glanced at her, eyes wide.

Caradoc was searching the crowd with his eyes, murmuring.

"At least your little _friend_ will be finally getting the attention she has been hounding after."

"_What_?!" Gunther hissed at the redhead, face heated.

Magnus was creating a wide berth as he walked through the crowd towards them.

"Your silly little escort!" Jane was, for some reason, feeling absolutely murderous. "You seem to be hurting her feelings, ignoring her like that at dinner."

His face was horrified. "You _never_ understand, do you?"

"Me!?"

"Jane!" The King's voice.

She suddenly realized that her last outburst had been rather loud. A coldness washed over her as she turned to see Caradoc now standing upon the dais and Magnus just steps from them. The broad man was stunned into silence, staring at her with large eyes; the blonde girl was tearing at the hem of her sleeves.

Jane quivered. "Your Majesty?"

The King was beaming broadly at them. "Splendid idea! The two Squires!"

"What… no! I mean…" Out of the corner of her eye, Jane could see her mother and father, who were watching with expressions of excitement and immense pride.

_Knight's code! Don't forget- and your'_ _parents. Oh no. Just… just get it over with! Knights' Code!_

"Of, course, sir." She said quickly, bowing.

As she straightened up, Magnus strode forward and grabbed his son by the shoulder, pulling him away. At the same time Pepper was tugging at her hand as Caradoc was striding over to the minstrels.

"Jane!"

"I know, I know!" She whispered hurriedly to her friend, "But my honor as a Knight is on the line! I cannot back out now, even if this is a complete and utter _mistake_. Now the King's counting on me to take _his and the Queen's_ place! Pepper!"

The other girl patted her hand lightly, "Just thank heaven it will be over quickly."

Jane turned around as her name was called. She saw Gunther, off to the side, his arm in the vice like grip of his father. The man was mouthing words to his son, and Gunther was shrinking back from him, but no one seemed to take notice. Jane felt a pang of… something, and she was reminded about the unsettled feeling she had at dinner.

As she slowly walked up to the front of the room, the guests who wished to dance formed two neat little rows facing each other, men on the left and women on the right.

Jane took her place at the front, the position closest to the King; the man looked particularly pleased with himself.

Magnus had released his son, and Gunther walked over opposite her.

She tried to catch his eye, to get a better bearing on what was going on, but he was staring at the ground, as if he were fighting to keep his gaze there. The momentary flare of disdain toward him vanished, as if it had never been there at all.

The noise around them died, replaced with an energy that hung in the air. It was tangible. The room was alive with excited with anticipation.

Jane was quivering.

She knew this dance, she knew it, having learned so long ago… but with Gunther as a dance partner… it felt as if she was being thrown off into very unfamiliar space.

She could feel the eyes of everyone, her parents, her friends, the knights, the other ladies, the King, all staring. Searing.

Jane took a deep, shaking breath, trying to steady herself.

She looked at her partner.

His eyes were down, head bent. Slowly Gunther straightened to meet her gaze. He bowed, as he should, and she let one foot slide, curtsying, head dipping.

A single rebec began.

She took a step forward towards him, and he towards her.

Her right arm bent up and out, palm vertical, his motion the mirror image. His hand met hers and they created a gesture as if the meeting digits were praying. Both moved in a full circle and stepped back to the side from which they had begun.

Still for one heartbeat.

The buckles on Gunther's shirt caught the light like little silver diamonds.

The rest of the string instruments joined.

Now both the lines moved as one.

Stepping forward, dancers took both of their partner's' hands, rotating in a circle and then stepping back to the line. There Jane circled around the woman to her left and Gunther the knight to his right; the pair were facing one another once again yet farther down the row.

Another pause.

One step forward. They halted for the briefest moment, side by side, before taking another stride to switch positions.

Again, a step forward, and then another, so they were alongside each other facing the same direction. Gunther raised his arm, palm facing the ceiling and Jane laid her hand on top of his. A step forward, and then one back.

The line turned the opposite direction.

One forward, one back.

They broke away, separating again into two facing rows, and began again from the beginning.

Jane had never imagined Gunther could be graceful, certainly not after his horrible footwork last year. Yet, here he was, stepping round her, surprisingly gentle as he caught her hands.

She was transfixed by the way he held her gaze, breaking only when they passed one another, or when someone else moved in front of them.

His hand cooled hers when they touched, and when his skin brushed over her fingertips, Jane felt a prickling sensation that travelled down her arm to rest somewhere in the base of her stomach.

The two lines stepped forward for the last move of the dance, the men with both upturned palms met the women's down turned ones and as they touched, the last note of the music vibrating in the air.

Gunther was looking very intensely into Jane's eyes. She could feel heat start to creep up her neck. His right hand began to cup her palm, holding it.

The men bowed once more as the women dipped to curtsy.

Very briefly, their gaze broke.

The music stopped, and all the females began clapping. The spell ended Jane slipped her left hand out of his, meaning to turn away without a word. His hold on her other palm was tight.

"Gun-"

The boy closed his eyes and brought her bare hand up, kissing it. The touch was brief, but the pressure was more than she expected. He dropped her hand, quickly, his curling into a clenched fist.

Jane was speechless.

"Jane!" A voice called to her. It was Pepper.

Before Gunther could say a word, Jane turned on her heel and nearly ran out of the dance crowd, leaving the boy standing there, staring after her. She didn't look at the expression on his face; she didn't want to.

* * *

A/n- The dance reference is taken from Pride and Prejudice, when Darcy and Elizabeth dance for the first time- some of the steps are the same. That song was also what I had in mind.

Thank you to TheLightningFlash for the amazing beta work!!!

Last chapter soon!

Please review!


	3. Fall

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A/n- Oh my goodness, I hadn't realized that I let this go so long without an update. Classes resumed this week, so it's been busy for me, but this shouldn't be so late; I apologize!

Disclaimer: lol

* * *

**Your Partner**

* * *

The night air, so cold in comparison to the heady atmosphere within the dance, hit Jane's face in a rushing breath as she ran. The quick thud of her footsteps upon the ground reverberated within hear ears nearly as loudly as her heartbeat.

The only thing she could think about was getting out as quickly as possible

Rounding the stables, the uneven earth caught on Jane's delicate heel. She fell forward, arms instinctively thrown outward to break her fall. The sharp twanging sting shuttering up from her palms' direct contact with the earth compounded upon the stinging shame already welling within Jane's heart.

She looked down at her dress, now streaked with dust, her breath coming in heavy gasps. The distinct sensation of drowning…

"_Jane!" A voice called to her. It was Pepper._

_The crowd was parting, watching her, whispering loudly._

_Her hand, upon which his lips had brushed, pained as if bruised._

_Without even acknowledging the other girl, Jane flew towards the double doors leading out to the grounds._

Shaking, Jane got to her feet, wincing as her weight was put on her left ankle, which smarted dully. Slowly, she continued, but at a walk rather than a sprint.

She could almost imagine his face- his _face_. He must have looked after her with the most dejected expression. What king of person runs away from the other?

The Knights Code- oh **hang** the Knight's Code. Jane was so confused and scared; she felt less like a Knight of the Court than ever.

A large sniff postponed barely-controlled tears.

Jane wanted to barricade herself up in her room, but she was afraid her mother would soon come looking for her.

She didn't want to go to Dragon. His company was something that she would normally welcome in times of… distress. But it was hard enough for Jane to control what she was feeling without having to keep Dragon from interfering with what had just happened.

Jane paused.

What _had_ just happened?

One moment she had been enjoying herself not at all and then she was being publicly humiliated in front of everyone and Gun- no. No, no. Don't think about that awful, sniveling, cheeky little-

Thoughts trailing off, Jane remembered how downtrodden the boy had looked during dinner; face to the table, eyes barely focused, lips parted just so.

Her heart did a little flip-flop.

Jane bit her lip.

Mounting the steps to the battlements, Jane traveled along the stone walkway before she rounded the top of Smithy's foundry. She knelt on her bruising knees, not minding the soft material creasing underneath her. Letting herself down onto the thickly woven roof, she crawled over to where the smoke stack protruded from its place down in the room below her.

Tucking herself between it and the wall, Jane curled her knees to her chest. Her heel sunk down a few inches into the packed straw. Cursing softly under her breath, Jane reached down to yank the slippers off her feet.

The tiny hideaway, nearly invisible from the ground below, was always the perfect place to hide during all her friend's silly little games. It was a warm spot, even in the dead of winter, due to the heat constantly wafting off the chimney.

Silence.

Very far away, Jane could hear the music from the party. The dancing must have resumed…

That thought brought back much more unpleasant ones.

"Do not cry," she whispered to herself. "Do** not**-" but silent tears were already running down her cheeks. Jane wiped them away furiously.

_I hate this stupid dress, she thought. I hate this dress and these shoes and I hate this stupid Ball._

"I hate Gunther Breech."

But as soon as she said it, Jane knew it wasn't true, and guilt surged up within her. With all her might she wished she did hate him, but she couldn't bring herself to truly feel it.

He was the bane of her existence, but she needed him, as much as she needed Dragon.

"Maybe more," her words breathed hot hair into the cooling night.

It was almost a stunning revelation. Jane never thought about how alike they were, how eerily similar. Both fought hard to prove themselves, Jane because she was a girl, and Gunther- it seemed- to distance himself from his father. Both had terrible pride issues, and each their own unwillingness to admit when they were beaten.

But Jane supposed it was more than that. They fed off each other too. It was with all honesty that Jane could say that when she sparred with Gunther, she truly felt free. He was her exact opposite, her mirrored reflection…

So she cared for him.

Jane realized that her tears had ceased their flow. Her breath was slowed, and that strange feeling of flight had replaced the heaviness within her stomach.

She… cared for Gunther?

Well, why not? He was a fellow Knight after all. He was as bound to her as she was to him by the very thing they found each other for day after day.

_The bubbly blonde practically draping herself over Gunther Breech's arm continued her incessant flirtations._

But Knights didn't feel such a prickling hatred towards annoying little- it was hard, even now, for Jane to think of an **appropriate **word for Gunther's 'friend'- towards annoying little nobodies who happened to be sitting so very close… she was so very close to him. It was a distance Gunther would normally disallow, but why had he made such an accommodation for the unknown blonde when he had never done so for Jane?

Was that jealousy?

"Jane?" A whisper-soft voice carried itself on the cool breeze whipping around the courtyard.

The redhead froze, a hand coming up to clamp over her mouth. Her chest heaved. Gunther must have excused himself from the party to search for her. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her knees tighter. Perhaps he would look, find nothing, and simply give up.

Her ears strained for any little sound.

Tip-tap, tip-tap. He was sprinting up the stone stairs.

Jane took a deep breath, trying to wipe her eyes so they wouldn't look as if she'd been crying. Her clenched fists were brought into her lap as she leant back, eyes fluttering closed.

"Jane. There you are."

Warmth spread out from Jane's chest, reaching all the way into her fingertips. Opening her eyes slowly, she looked up to see Gunther standing on the edge, looking down at her. He seemed as tense as she had felt; his arms were still by his side but his expression…

"You found me," the redhead admitted lamely.

"You ran away."

A bubble of laughter forced its way past Jane's lips. "Yes, I ran."

Gunther paused, and Jane could see the conflict raging within him. Finally, he bent to kneel on the stone so he was leaning out over the foundry's roof. In the pale light, the buttons on his tunic winked like stars. He was staring at her, hair falling in his face from the angle at which he was bowed.

"I am…" Did he flinch? "Sorry. I certainly did not mean to make a spectacle out of… us."

Jane shifted uncomfortably where she sat. Her legs were going numb. Gunther seemed to read her mind, for her straightened up a bit, offering his hand to her.

No. No, why should she? Why should she unfurl herself for him? Why should he be able to swoop in from out of nowhere and expect- _expect_- her to just dry her eyes, dust off her lap, and talk to him as if nothing was amiss?

At her hesitation, Gunther's eyes began to harden, the warmth that had swam in them just moments before were winking out like miniature campfires. His skin, unearthly in the moonlight, paled.

An alighted fear jumped up into Jane's throat.

Slowly, she reached out to take what was offered but stopped short. Memories resurfaced of her offering the same one day a year ago, but she had recanted it at the last second that time, causing Gunther to sprawl upon his back.

The boy was right there with her. He smirked softly, "No tricks, Jane." She was relieved, relieved to see the glow again present in his dark eyes; they brimmed with fleeting hope and unbridled joy.

A small smile appeared on the girls' lips as she clutched at his outstretched fingers. With little effort she was lifted to her feet. Gunther grabbed her other hand and pulled her up to him. They stumbled back but kept their footing. Unlike the time where he had saved her from the Skyleaf, they didn't let go of each other right away.

Just like during the end of the dance, his grip was tight, but not painful. It was as if he was trying to anchor her to him; as if she might disappear if he lost touch.

"Do you accept my apology then?"

Jane had to laugh, just a little, there was so much trust flitting in his face. "I suppose…" She turned away. "It was not _entirely_ your fault."

"Well, _I _was not the one who volunteered," he teased.

"That is _not_ what happened," Jane looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Your father seems to be quite eager to thrust you into the center of attention."

Gunther rolled his eyes, "My father… yes."

It was then that he dropped his hold of her, and Jane had been unaware at how warm his skin was until she missed it. Her hand went to rub absently at the spot he had been in contact with. She gazed out at the forest, a breeze fluttering at her dress. She could hear Gunther sign, once, drawing in a deep breath.

"Jane?" He touched her shoulder, turning her back toward him just a degree. The girl looked up; expression a mix between questioning and something… something else. Gunther took her hand again. "Jane, I said I was sorry for embarrassing you, but I am… I will _not_ be sorry for-" there was a moment where she didn't believe he could go on. His thumb ran over her knuckles in a butterfly touch. "I am not sorry for my affections for you."

Jane's breath hitched.

The boy pulled at the hand he was holding, guiding the girl toward him. His head dipped, the free hand at his side coming to slide against Jane's cheek.

Unconsciously, although she was alight with shock and a spectacularly swimming head, Jane felt herself lean in.

Ever so gently, Gunther's lips skimmed over hers, and it reminded Jane of hands over the smoothest of silks. She gasped against him, deepening the contact, shaking. The pressure strengthened degrees, as did his hold on her cheek, until she was hewn unto his very touch.

They moved against each other, whispering.

"Jane, I-"

"No… do not stop."

All the jealousy from before, all the compartmentalized grief and confusion and frustration was replaced by a singular clarity that should have hit Jane as hard as a stave to the chest, but she was far beyond the simple shock of her feelings for Gunther Breech.

A low breath expelled across Jane's cheek as Gunther broke briefly to breath. Jane opened her eyes wide, watching him. His gaze was sheathed in an emotion Jane couldn't place, and a faint tinge of pink was just brushed upon the tips of his cheekbones.

"I… ever since I saw you tonight I wanted to do that. Since before I can remember."

Jane grinned, breathless, "I thought I was a complete joke in this dress."

"You could be knee deep in mud and you would look perfect Jane."

A blush spread across her face, "Gunther, I do believe you are the most complicated person I have ever met."

His hand caressed the skin over her jaw. "Shall I recant my kiss then?"

"If you must," Jane breathed, "but I shall take it right back again."

* * *

**Fin**

* * *

A/n: Whoa. That was… a journey.

I'ma go pass out now. Mad props to LightningFlash for the amazing beta.

Please review, it's greatly appreciated!


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